Barron is lounging against the secretary desk in a sharkskin suit. Mom is next to him, her hair pulled back into a Hermes scarf with a massive black-and-white hat over it, black gloves, and a low-cut black dress. They’re both wearing sunglasses. She’s bent over, signing a sheet.
I think she’s supposed to look like she’s in mourning.
“Mom,” I say.
“Oh, honey,” she says. “The doctor wants to see you to make sure you don’t have the Grege thing that killed your brother.” She turns to Ms. Logan, who looks scandalized by the whole encounter. “These things can run in families,” she confides.
“You’re afraid I’m going to come down with a bad case of getting two in the chest?” I say. “’Cause you might be right about that running in families.”
Mom purses her lips in disapproval.
Barron claps me
